


Apologies

by desperately_human



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M, S1e07, hopeful end, sam is bi, these two deserve something mildly happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 20:28:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14922302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desperately_human/pseuds/desperately_human
Summary: “It’s alright to care, Chris. It’s alright to have feelings.”“Not all the time, it’s not,” Chris answers, looking anywhere but at him, “not my feelings,”





	Apologies

**Author's Note:**

> not beta read

“…I’m sorry boss, I didn’t know it’d upset you this much, I really didn’t.” And if that isn’t so damn much like Chris, and so much not what Sam wanted to hear. It’s an absurd conversation and so he reaches out and puts a hand over Chris’s mouth to stop him saying any more.  
They’re in Sam’s flat, and it’s late, though he’s not sure how late, but he’d seen Chris and the rest of the gang going for a drink as he’d been slipping out the back door, so it must be late enough that everyone else has gone home, because Chris is not one to miss group bonding time. Sam is not entirely sure why he’s here now, to be honest, except that he wants to talk about Billy Kemble and Sam really, really does not. Not like this, at least, with Chris bouncing back and forth between apology and defensiveness, trying to prove something. And Chris is always trying to prove something, isn’t he, when he drinks, or ignores Sam in the canteen, or tried to flirt with a girl in the bar when everyone’s watching, or a million other little things it’s clear he doesn’t want to do. It’s exhausting, it’s exhausting for Sam to watch, and after this day he really cannot deal with it.  
“Stop. Chris. Just stop. It’s not about me.” He tries to get his thoughts in order, a little difficult after the long, long day, the drinks, this circular conversation, “It’s about that lad lying dead. His sister…d’you know what she said to me when I told her..? He died, Chris…” But his righteous words from earlier seem to have deserted him, gone with the hope that he might finally be able to change things, to get the fuck home, and he’s just so damn tired of nineteen seventy three.  
Chris’s eyes are wide, and Sam is suddenly aware of the soft mouth under his hand, how very close they are, how Chris seems to have stopped breathing. He pulls back quickly, and Chris finally takes a breath and says, far too honestly, “but it is about you. You’re the one who won’t look at use the same anymore. You’re the one who hates us.”  
And, finally, Sam can say, “Look, you made a mistake. More than a mistake, you royally fucked this up, all of you. And you’re gonna have to acknowledge that, and you’re gonna have to live with it, but it’s not. I don’t hate you. I expected better of you, maybe. You were a shit cop yesterday. But it’s not like you have much to look up to.”  
“But I look up to you, boss,” Chris is still looking terribly earnest, and seems to catch the discomfort on Sam’s face because he hesitantly corrects “I mean, uh…Sam. I listen to you, and I wanna be a good cop like you said. But then Ray and everybody’s looking at me an’ I don’t wanna be soft. I don’t wanna…” he waves his hands in a gesture that Sam completely fails to understand and trails off miserably. He looks ashamed, looks exactly how Sam had wanted him to all night, and it isn’t satisfying at all.  
“It’s alright to care, Chris. It’s alright to have feelings.”  
“Not all the time, it’s not,” Chris answers, looking anywhere but at him, “not my feelings,” and Sam gets it then, feels stupid for not noticing before, feels stupidly and irrationally happy even though he’s still a bit angry.  
Chris has his head down, trying to hide the tears in his eyes, probably terrified by what he’s just confessed, and Sam reaches out a hand to brush the fair from his eyes, and they’re already sitting close together on that stupid couch, and says “it’s okay,” which is a stupid modern expression, but Chris doesn’t call him on it, just looks up with ridiculously big eyes and the tiniest bit of hope. And it’s that spark of hope that does it, that makes Sam lean in and kiss him softly, and there’s a moment of stillness just long enough for Sam to regret everything he’s done, because he got something wrong and this is a terrible mistake, and then Chris kisses back, shy and inexperienced with hands clinging to his jacket.  
Eventually they pull back and Chris says “I’m sorry,” which is an absurd response even though it’s been the theme of the evening, so Sam affectionately says “shut up” and wraps his arms around Chris until they’re cuddle together on the couch. They watch some stupid program on TV while Chris wonderingly touches Sam, holds his hands, runs his fingers though his hair, like maybe this is the first time he’s been allowed to do something like this. And Sam closes his eyes and thinks maybe, maybe here and now isn’t so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading the random stories in my head. I've only just started actually posting fics. First draft.


End file.
